Driving Force

It occurs to me that I have not thoroughly described the job of shuttle driver.  So, the Shuttles department is tasked with:

- transporting passengers to and from the airfield
- driving support staff to and from the airfield, including anyone from cargo handlers to ground control workers to the food service staff
- taking crew to, from, and around the airfield (usually divided by role and rank -- it would be tragic for the officers to ride with the enlisted, and the mechanics are busy at different times than the pilots)
- taxi rides around town when people have lots of equipment or heavy/bulky items
- bag drag and bellhop (getting passenger baggage to and from the transport building and dorms)
- driving fancy NASA scientists to the Long Duration Balloon facility to play with giant balloons
- check out vehicles, which boils down to pulling dipsticks, looking for leaks, and noting mileage
- dispatching vehicles while monitoring two radio channels
- in theory, washing vans and windows

Up close to an LC130, waiting for the crew to offload the 

precious urn coffee they require to fly (and survival bags).

Normally things are pretty organized and chill.  I spend a lot of time reading, knitting, applying temporary tattoos reviewing equipment operation manuals in between drives.  But then a flight to, say, South Pole will be delayed by weather.  This triggers a cascade of rescheduling, reassigning drivers and vans, or even driving a Delta -- which achieves maybe 18 mph with the pedal to the floor.  Even when our plans get scrambled, though, it's still pretty chill.

This week we all faced the harsh reality of nature: not one but two adorable baby seals wormed their way to the airfield. That is, the opposite direction of the temporary ice and their mothers (their source of food).  So cute, so meekly confused.  Sorry little guys, we're not allowed to interfere, and could only ogle you on your way to a long cold sleep.  A few of us considered pooling funds to pay the $10,000 fine and scoop you up into the warm van and go joyriding for a day, but you probably would've just been scared and pooped all over.

Maybe he'll reorient himself, or find some abandoned hotdogs to snack on.

Bonus photo: I made it out to the pressure ridges for a record fifth time this season, and I climbed Castle Rock (in the background) earlier the same day.  Loving the two-day-weekend life.